


I dreamed about you (for 29 years before I saw you)

by i_am_girlfriday



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Holidays, Implied Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_girlfriday/pseuds/i_am_girlfriday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Stan celebrate the holidays after getting together in the autumn of 1970.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I dreamed about you (for 29 years before I saw you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eurydice72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/gifts).



> Thank you to all my writing groups for their endless cheerleading when I angsted about writing.
> 
> This is canon compliant and takes place directly after the series finale. 
> 
> Happy Yuletide! Enjoy some holiday fluff! I had fun sneaking in Italian and Norwegian food traditions.

**Thanksgiving**

Peggy and Stan have been busy with work ever since they started at McCann Erickson. They have their former accounts, but Peggy’s relentless about acquiring more. It keeps them in the office for too many late nights. They still haven’t even gone on a proper date.

Peggy makes a face. “I don’t care about that kind of stuff,” she insists when they eat their umpteenth meal from a carton on the floor of her office.

“Liar,” Stan says. “You’re such a girl.”

Peggy throws a soggy egg roll at him. “Don’t make me fire you,” she teases.

“Hey,” Stan rests his hand on top of hers, “we should make time for it though.”

“Sure, okay.” 

That’s as far as they get planning their first date before there’s a crisis with Butler Footwear and they’re in the office nearly round the clock for the next week.

***

The first day they get to sleep in is Thursday in late November, which happens to be Thanksgiving. Peggy tries to enjoy the feel of Stan next to her in bed, but her alarm goes off at 6 AM, her phone rings at 7:30, and her tenant comes pounding on her door when her pilot light goes out in the middle of roasting her turkey at 9:15.

When Peggy returns to her apartment a little before ten, Stan is awake and has fixed them coffee.

“I would have made breakfast, but all you have is a jar of pickles and an apple pie,” Stan says as he hands her a mug.

“Sorry.”

“My place isn’t much better.” 

“I think I have a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter?” Peggy goes to rummage through her cupboard. “Oh, no. Bread’s moldy.” She tosses it in the garbage. 

“It’s just as well, I guess. Thanksgiving and all.” Stan gives her a sideways glance.

“Do you want to come to Thanksgiving with me?” Peggy asks without overthinking. She’s thirty years old, dammit. If she wants to bring her boyfriend home for a holiday, she will, not because her mom’s been pestering her, but because it’s her first day off in over a month and she wants to spend it with her favorite person.

“Meet the family?” Stan runs his hand through his long hair like he’s trying to be casual though the conversation is anything but.

“Sure, why not?” Peggy tries to sound brave.

“Okay, but we have to make a stop first.”

Peggy nods and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m going to get ready.” Stan grabs her around the waist as she exits the kitchen. 

It’s another twenty minutes before Peggy makes it to the shower.

***

An hour later they are on the Staten Island ferry and Peggy’s freezing her ass off. She tugs her coat around her tighter and shivers.

“I told you you’d be cold without your scarf,” Stan teases.

“I’m fine.” Peggy tilts her head up as if in defiance.

“We can sit inside.” Stan points to the warmer benches on the passenger deck.

“No, I like it out here.” Peggy looks at the Manhattan skyline. It’s grey and cold, and on any other day Peggy might call it miserable, but she’s sitting next to Stan and he _shaved_. She reaches toward him and grabs his hand. “I always wanted to sit outside when I rode the ferry as a kid.”

There’s a long pause before Stan starts up again. “So, I should probably warn you...my family is crazy.”

Peggy gives him a look. “Aren’t all families?”

“Maybe crazy isn’t the right word. How about scary?”

“Well, you’re clearly scared if you shaved off your beard.”

“My nonna is terrifying,” he says with a fond smile. “And my aunts will probably tell you you’re too skinny and are going to insist you have seconds and thirds.”

Peggy laughs. “I’ll just tell them we have another dinner to get to later.” 

Stan squeezes her hand and keeps his eyes on the horizon.

“Will your mom be there?”

“I don’t know,” is all he says.

Peggy only knows that Stan’s mom was young when she had him and left him to be raised mostly by his grandmother and his extended family. She lives in Atlantic City and Stan hasn’t visited her in at least a year. She squeezes his hand back and rests her head on his shoulder.

It’s a beautiful, quiet moment before the bedlam of visiting both sets of their families.

* * *

**Christmas**

Peggy and Stan spend Christmas Eve shopping together. 

“This is a date,” Peggy says when they stop for a hot dog.

Stan has mustard in his beard, not yet fully grown-in but making a valiant comeback, and grimaces at her. “This is not a date. This is street meat. _When_ we go on a date, it’s going to be romantic as shit. You won’t even know what hit you.”

Peggy giggles. “Romantic as shit, huh?” Peggy crumples up her napkin and tosses it in a trash can. “The stores are closing in an hour. We should get going.”

It’s stupid that they waited until the last minute, but in their defense, they both have an ironic aversion to the commercialization of the holiday. It starts to flurry outside so they pop into Bloomingdale's.

“I’m going to the lingerie section. Do you want to meet at the fragrance counter in thirty minutes?” Stan proposes.

“Stan!” 

“What?”

“Lingerie, really?” she hisses.

“I never said it was for you,” Stan jokes.

Peggy cackles. “Okay, have fun picking out something for your nonna.”

Stan makes a face. “You’re sick.”

Peggy heads toward the men’s department, unsure of what to get Stan. She’s got stuff for her mom, Anita, and the kids, but somehow her usual bottle of bourbon for Stan doesn’t seem good enough this year. She looks around at the leather gloves and the scarves, but they all seem paltry, even if they are European and _pricey_. Peggy does a lap around the store and nothing seems right. It’s all Stan’s fault anyway--she’d called him up a week ago on the phone and asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

“Surprise me,” he said.

Peggy huffed in exasperation. “I don’t know what that means!”

“You’re an ad woman, use your imagination.”

Peggy does another lap around the store and ends up in women’s apparel. She sees the mannequins all dolled up in designer clothes and tries not to feel frumpy in her wool coat and chunky scarf. She finds herself wandering through the racks of clothes, touching the fine silk, decadent cashmere, soft ultrasuede, and stretchy jersey. 

“Can I help you with anything, miss?” a salesgirl asks her.

“Sorry, no. I’m just browsing,” Peggy says out of habit. 

The salesgirl smiles and picks up a jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and an open back. “Are you sure? This would be perfect for a night out on the town.”

Peggy looks at it and takes a breath. It’s black, sleek, and ultra sexy. “How,” she begins, “how do you even wear a bra with that thing?”

The salesgirl smiks. “You don’t, it’s Halston.”

Peggy furrows her brow in confusion.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Oh.” She feels herself blush. “I see.”

Fifteen minutes later, and several hundred dollars poorer, Peggy meets Stan at the fragrance counters. Stan’s bag is dainty, and he looks immensely proud of himself. Peggy clutches her bag tighter when he tries to sneak a peek. 

“Hey,” she warns him.

Stan holds out his hand for her to grab. “Where to?”

“I’m done, I just need to stop at the liquor store.” Peggy needs a backup bottle of bourbon just in case she chickens out.

“I know we said we were going to make it to the Feast of the Seven Fishes at Nonna’s, but do you want to bail and just order in Chinese food instead?” Stan asks. He waggles his eyebrows which means that he really wants to get high and have sex.

Peggy smirks. “You’re so transparent.”

“What, like you don’t?”

“You want to debauch and defile me on the holiest of nights?”

“Every night if I can.”

She laughs at him and tries to ignore the implication. “I can’t believe my mother likes you. She doesn’t like anyone.”

“What? I’m charming.” Stan kisses her hand.

“You’re Catholic, more like.”

“Lapsed. Very lapsed.”

“Well, we’re expected out in Brooklyn for mass, so we can’t get too crazy tonight. And if we skip Nonna’s today, then we’ll have to go by tomorrow at least.”

“Come on, Peggy. Santa already made his list and he checked it twice. We’re definitely on the naughty one.”

Peggy shrugs. “Fine.” She’s got tissue paper somewhere. She can throw some in the bags for her family and will be good to go.

***

They open their Christmas presents to each other when the clock strikes midnight. Stan’s naked and Peggy’s in just her underwear.

“Bourbon,” Stan says, a note of disappointment in his voice.

“It’s part one of your gift,” Peggy explains. 

“Where’s part two?”

She glances at the Bloomingdale’s bag on the floor. “I’ll show it to you when you take me on that date you keep on mentioning.” Peggy opens the small bag from Bloomingdale’s and her mouth falls open in an O, but she doesn’t say anything.

Stan looks at her expectantly. “Well?”

Peggy holds up the black stockings and matching black bra, panty, and garter belt set. “I’m surprised.” She touches the silk and lace. She knew Stan was going for something in the lingerie department, but she wasn’t expecting anything so _classy_. She looks up at Stan and he’s waiting with bated breath. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He exhales.

“What, did you think I wouldn’t like them?” she asks.

Stan shrugs. “I just wanted _you_ to know that _I_ know you are every inch _a woman_.”

Peggy bites her lip. She really has no right to be surprised by the way things turned out for her and Stan. They’ve been dancing around each other since they met. While other men couldn’t get past her being a woman in the workplace, Stan’s been more than appreciative of her womanliness.

Peggy gets up to turn the light off and move their presents off the bed. She grabs the joint from the ashtray and lights it. Stan pulls the sheet back for her to slide into bed. She throws a leg over him and takes a drag. She hands it off to Stan and then cuddles closer.

“Love you,” Peggy says, her voice quiet but sure. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers into Stan’s beard before drifting off to sleep.

***

Morning comes too quickly and it’s a struggle to get Stan ready for church so early in the morning. She lets him hit the snooze button twice, but then she has to drag him into the shower.

“Can’t we just go to your mother’s for lunch?” he whines. He turns them around so his back is against the cold tile. He pulls Peggy against him and starts kissing her. It’s hot, wet, steamy, and incredibly tempting. 

“Can’t. We’re double booked again, remember? We’re having lunch at Ma’s and then we’re due at Nonna’s.”

Stan groans. He cups Peggy’s face and kisses her like they have all the time in the world. 

Peggy extracts herself from his hold and grabs a washcloth. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Can we just call everyone and tell them we got the flu?” Stan grumbles.

“I’ll make it worth your while?” Peggy lathers up her washcloth and tosses it at Stan.

Stan chuckles. “No you won’t.” 

Peggy laughs with him and leans in for another kiss. Despite their best effort, they’re still twenty minutes late to Christmas mass. Ma won’t stop shooting daggers at her when they squeeze into the pew, but it’s worth it when Peggy casually leans over during Christmas lunch and whispers in Stan’s ear that she’s wearing his Christmas gift under her clothes.

Stan’s fork clatters to his plate. “You’re a fruitcake, you know that?”

Peggy just smirks and serves herself another lefse.

* * *

**New Year**

Stan invites Peggy out for their long-awaited date--he makes reservations at Tavern on the Green for New Year’s Eve. It’s not exactly an _inspired_ choice, but it’s classy, and fits the bill for their first official date.

“We’re going to be late,” he calls through her bedroom door.

Peggy looks at herself in the mirror again. She can hardly recognize herself. She’s in her black jumpsuit with the deep V and open back, paired with gold leather pumps that cost a week’s paycheck. She debates changing into something more sensible for the season, but the weather forecast looks unseasonably warm.  
“Just a second!” Peggy paces back and forth, but she can’t think of a good reason to be this nervous. It’s _Stan_ , and he’s made it pretty clear that he loves her, proverbial warts and all. She takes another calming breath and reaches inside her satin clutch. She puts on her favorite lipstick and dabs Chanel No. 5 on her pulse points. Peggy hooks her black rabbit fur coat over her finger and then waltzes out of her bedroom with as much confidence as she can muster.

Stan’s jaw drops when he sees her and then whistles at her appreciatively. Peggy lets out a giggle and does a twirl for the full effect.

“It’s Halston. I hope you like it, because I can’t return it. I already cut the tags off.”

“Peggy Olson, are you braless?” Stan sounds scandalized.

Peggy waggles her eyebrows. “Merry Christmas,” she says.

Stan manhandles her and they kiss until Peggy’s sure she’s going to have to reapply her lipstick. It’s tender and sensual, raw and perfect, and sweet and primal all at once.

Peggy pulls away, breathless. “We should go or we’ll be late for our reservation.”

Stan runs a hand through his messy locks and looks absolutely wrecked. “You’re the smuggest bitch in the world,” he says playfully.

Peggy laughs and leans in for another kiss, reservations be damned. “Happy New Year.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from The National's "Slow Show."


End file.
